Wanting Titles
by fanfictionator
Summary: What can one do when someone is threating their assurace of getting a promotion? Fight, bet, or make life-changing decisions? Hermoine is threatened when, after she applies, another competetor enters the playing field. Read to find out! One-shot


**A/N: Hey guys, I really need to be working on "The Solution" but I am at a writers' block and have been for a few months! I am super sorry, but I think my readers will enjoy this one-shot! Let me know if you do!**

**Disclaimer: As sad as it is, I do not own the Potter Characters, but the plot is completely mine! Muahahah!**

Before I start, I just wanted to let you know, that it is my passion to have the title "Owner of E.I." Now that I got that off my chest, I can tell you how my normal day at work started out.

"_Where's my coffee?"_ I thought, crankily. My mind was just not going fast enough to do what was necessary to get the job, so I was staring at my empty cup in exhaustion. I needed this job, the better pay, a higher position in my work place, and most importantly, bragging rights. Of course other people had applied for the promotion, but as selfish as it may sound, I am more qualified. Unfortunately, they don't realize this and continue attempting to slaughter my career. Literally! I've found poison in my coffee once (now I check every time someone gets me something edible)! That person was fired and I won't mention her name… She was so crazy though. Now that I think of it, I am pretty sure she is still in Mungo's.

Anyhow, thirteen people had applied for the same promotion I did. They all think the better pay and authority position would be nice, but seeing that 12 of them still work on the floors 1-10, I am sure they don't really believe they can get the raise. Regrettably, there is still one other person who is the greatest threat and who works on the same floor as me (floor 47). I know that he has grown more mature, and that he may seem like a smart man, but I also know that I can seem like a snob at times. And just because something seems a certain way, it doesn't mean it's true! So therefore, I have decided to work harder than him, to go not only an extra mile, but an extra 10 miles when it comes to what my boss wants. It looks as if my playbook is wide open though, because he appears to be doing the same thing; sucking-up, butt-kissing, brown-nosing, or whatever you would like to call it. If you ask my opinion, women are just better at that sort of thing. When they do it, it is more subtle and less obvious.

I work at a programming office in London. We create, design, brainstorm, test, and build technology, structures or anything else to benefit the people. And yes, when I said _people_, I meant muggles as well. The muggle department is on floors one through seven while the rest of the floors are dedicated to magic. It is sort of an engineering type of work, but being the best witch of my year, I am the assistant manager. Sure it may sound like a great title, but there are two for each four stories (on average). Did I mention that the man who applied for the same position I did was also assistant manager on my floor? So here we are, fighting for the approval and preference of our boss. The (main) Manager/Owner of EI. Electronics Incorporated. He's actually leaving the business, retiring for that matter, and it is his job, I am seeking to obtain.

"Oh, hello Mr. Kertain! Would you like some coffee?" I said as my boss walked by. To clear something, his name may look like it sounds like "curtain," but really it sounds like it should be spelled like K-e-i-r-t-a-n-e. I think it's foreign.

"No, thank you Miss Granger, but the thought is appreciated!" He nodded and continued on his jolly way.

"Good morning sir. Can I get you the morning paper?"

Hearing the muffled voices, I watched as Mr. Kertain smiled, nodded, laughed and talked to him like they were brothers. It really makes me mad when they do that. They start talking about whatever it is men enjoy and seem to shut the rest of the world out.

"Well, I'll be right back with that then. Let me know if you need anything else." He started walking towards me, well actually the door to the apparating room (since people popping up all over the office startled many of the workers, and even maimed one [someone aparated to the exact spot they were occupying, which was a horrible mess], we have a room dedicated for apparation). He was weaseling his ways into the boss' good graces. That little sneaky git!

"Mornin', Granger. Have a good weekend?" His sudden speech caught me off guard.

"Yeah, I got in at least twenty hours of overtime." Of course the hours weren't necessary but I wanted him to know that the promotion was to be mine.

"Hm, that's quite interesting. Sounds like our weekends were similar then! Mr. K called me in and asked if I would come and work in his office up on floor forty-eight. I'm pretty sure I got in about twenty-five hours." He smiled at me, but I saw no sincerity, just boasting in his expression. Why did I tell him first? I am sure that he always twists the truth so he can beat me out… but it takes two to tango.

"Yes, well I had a cousin's birthday party I couldn't miss." I looked back to my desk, trying to signify that he should leave my office and go fetch the paper for our boss.

"I'm glad you had a fun time then." He stood motionless in the door but I pretended to be writing notes on a motor design sheet. After a few minutes, I looked up at him with raised eyebrows.

"What do you want?" Taking this as an invitation, he walked up to my desk, placing his hands on it. The desk matched his, but was more organized and better taken care of.

"Why do you want that job so badly?" Curiosity killed the cat, and it had obviously been gnawing at him all week. "I mean, if you backed down now I could always make you second in command! Actually I would do it in a heartbeat if you just let me get the job." There was no pleading in his eyes, just determination.

"I could say the same thing to you. Obviously we are each others' greatest threat in the race so I know for sure that you are afraid I will get the job." I added pause, for a dramatic effect. "And I intend to get it as well!"

If he thought otherwise, that for some reason I was applying for the promotion because I thought tension was fun, or that I enjoyed beating people even if I didn't want the prize, he was very wrong. Wasting one's time on something as stressful as tension, or as ridiculous as beating others out, never was my cup of tea.

"But I think it's quite obvious, Granger. We both know I am better suited for the position and that you don't really want to own this business anyhow!" A smirk was on his face like it normally was.

"Oh and how are you better suited for this job? Hm? If I'm not mistaken, my owls were much better than yours and I am certain you have always been aware of the large gap between our intelligence. I am more mature and responsible also." I crossed my arms in anger and to add to my statement.

"Oh, well that explains it then!" I opened my mouth to argue back until I realized he was agreeing with me. "You're mistaken." It seems I thought too soon.

"Oho. Good one. Now get out." I could hear the steal in my voice. He did as well because he stood and left my office without a retort or even a scowl.

That was my pet peeve. Not that he came into my office and started to cause tension between us because as twisted as it sounds, I think that's very stimulating, but that he cannot even hold his ground! I like being respected and listened to, but I was actually hoping he would get angry. I enjoy making him angry, but lately, I think he has been hiding it so I don't get that enjoyment. That brat.

Since he did not please me with his being calm, I yelled, "MALFOY, YOU ARE GOING DOWN!" All I can say is WOW! That wasn't creative at all and even sounded desperate. I was starting to regret saying such an adolescent thing, until he nibbled my bait.

His face appeared once again in my doorway. "If you don't mind my asking, what did you mean by 'going down'?" His eyebrows raised up in question. "Were you referring to hell, or you ravishing me right here in your office? Because I know you are thinking about both at the moment."

That really surprised me. Never before had he put a sexual joke in any of our arguments. And I would definitely not do that. "Um, well the first one sounds relevant but not the second. I was referring to the job. It's going to be mine and you will realize that I am just better at everything."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you are a great quidditch player then? You are very learned in the sports area? I am betting I am not only quicker on the brooms, but also at creating witticisms." I watched him cross his arms and lean against my door frame as if posing for an uncandid-like photo.

"Is that so? Why don't you put your money where your mouth is? Or better yet, why don't we put the promotion on the line? The person who gives up has to pull their name from the list. "

His mouth was a thin line. No smirk resided there and it was obvious he knew his words were empty. That's why I was surprised when I heard, "A battle of wits then. Start it anyway you'd like, Granger."

I gave it thought. Starting an argument required strategy; something that would crawl under their skin; something that would hit the spot. I had the perfect thing in mind.

"Ferret." Okay, maybe not very well thought out. But he said I could start it anyway I pleased.

"Beaver." He spoke quickly, as if to show he had a comeback to everything. I knew that was coming since we were talking about animals.

"Lanky albino."

"Oh, let me help you! Never mind, I thought you were about to tip over because your hair seemed to catch the draft coming through the door." He smirked.

"Don't nod your head to fast or else you could stick yourself in the chest with your pointy chin. That would just be a bloody mess."

"Hey, didn't you throw your shoulder out of place from flinging your hand up at 100 miles per hour in sixth year?"

"I heard you got a disease from Milicent Bullstrode."

"That was a rumor, and Professor Dumbledore laughed at your sad attempt to hide a hickie."

"You're and ignorant pig who doesn't know what he wants because your eyes are bigger than your stomach and other parts of your anatomy."

"You are a self conceited witch, if you minus the w and add a b."

"Your hair looks like a dog urinated on it."

"Your hair looks as if a nuclear bomb was dropped in mud and you were too close. I guess that would explain your lack of… shape."

"When you 'lift' with the guys, you can only curl five pound dung bells."

"You went through a horrible pink feddish. Need I say more?"

"You once used hair gel. Every day for three whole years at Hogwarts. Need _I_ say more?"

"If you had bottom teeth like your top ones, I would still call you an elephant."

"If you were anymore stuck up, I would have to ask who's rear end was being blessed with your presence."

"If you were any more in love with yourself, I would have to try to break you up."

"If vampires aged I could've sworn you were one. You suck."

"What kind of an insult is that?" He stared at me and I just shrugged my shoulders. "Well, listen, and learn." He cleared his throat. "You're mum's so ugly everyone thought she was part of the Freak Show at the circus last year. You may want this job, but I know that it isn't your hearts truest desire."

That part seemed to stop words from escaping my mouth for a moment. "Oh really? What, then, is my hearts truest desire?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

He smirked at me. "I'm your hearts truest desire!" He leaned back against the wall.

"That is ridiculous! And it has absolutely nothing to do with our bet. You're an inbred with twelve toes."

"Ah, but it has everything to do with our bet. You see, if you are infatuated with my being, you could just let me own the business. Marry me, and it would belong to the both of us."

"I remember reading _The Hogwarts Student Handbook_ and it saying something about all the students having gifts and talents. How did you get in?"

"I've even bought you a ring." He walked up to me and got on one knee, holding a decently sized diamond ring.

"Shepherds bred feinting goats specifically for bait incase a predator came near the flock to hunt. When all the sheep and goats were running, eventually, the feinting goats would lose control of their leg muscles and fall down. I think I my great aunt has a ferret farm. You would make a perfect feinting ferret."

"We could share everything! A huge house, this company, and the fortune that will accompany it!"

"I bet you take half-hour showers. Using shampoo to lather, rinse, repeat! Lather, rinse repeat! Lather, rinse, repeat!"

"I could work here, you could stay at home. Maybe even write books!"

I sighed. He had obviously given up on our bet, and was still on one knee.

"I still want to work here you know." I picked at a piece of dirt under my nail, pretending to not watch his face light up.

"So does that mean yes?"

I looked at his smile, his grey eyes and the ring all at once. "What else did you think it meant? That I decided to dye my hair purple and spike it daily?"

"That is exactly what I thought you meant."

I laughed as he slid the ring on my left hand.

So now, instead of awaiting 'the owner of E.I.' title, I am awaiting the title "Mrs. Draco Malfoy."

**A/N: So? What did you think? Let me know, and give me inspiration so you can receive appreciation! Thanks so much for the view!**


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